Hallelujah
by QxzVIl
Summary: Scott wakes up in the middle of the night, and Derek sings him to sleep, much to Stiles joy. THERE MIGHT BE A CONTINUATION OF THIS, SO KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED.


Here is some fluff I wrote for my friend~ I hope you enjoy it c: (Those are not my own lyrics, and I do not claim ownership of them whatsoever; It was just the first song that came to mind)

The screeching sound frequency of the baby monitor was enough to wake me up. As well as the semi-loud screaming of Scott in the other room. God, the kid had a pair of lungs like a norse god.

"Stiles," I mumble, half-asleep. This kid was going to be the death of my ear drums.

"Don't even think it," He mutters, switching sides and burying himself in his own pillow. "I got him last time, it's your turn. Doesn't really matter though, since I'm about as awake as you are." He tugs the covers higher over his head, trying to get comfy. We end up just lying there, staring at the ceiling, rubbing the sleep out of our eyes.

"Yeah, you're right," I grunt, rubbing a hand over my face. "Just go back to sleep, I'll be back in a few minutes." I move to the side of the bed, feeling him take my hand in his own two.

"Can't; you know you're my pillow." He kisses my hand, before moving over to my side. It's true; when I went on a three day business trip, he had to have me talk him to sleep. I pad over to Scott's room, flinching a little bit when the sound got louder.

"Hey, little man; what's the issue?" I leaned over the crib, looking at him. The crying did go down a few decibels, but he still wouldn't stop. I run a hand along his stomach, trying to soothe him. "Please stop crying; you'll go mute before you're even a teenager, and that is really no fun, not having a voice; trust me, Stiles wouldn't be quite as fun without his voice_._" He didn't stop crying at this. Instead, he just kept screaming. I exhaled a little louder than I probably needed to.

"Alright," I sigh, picking him up, holding him in my hands. I sniff him; definitely doesn't need a diaper change. I listen to his stomach for a minute; not hungry, we fed him at midnight, which was about two hours ago. Or was it three? God, my sleep schedule was so messed up from having a kid.

"Are you just tired?" I ask him, cradling him to my shoulder. "Yeah, well sometimes I want to cry when I don't sleep either; you're just like your papa in that sense." My voice is scratchy with sleep, not like Stiles whose voice is always soft and melodic even with four accumulative hours of sleep.

Scott could scream loud enough to make the baby radio freak out, and he could even cry whilst doing this, which just made everything less attractive; snot and tears would mix together, and land on my shoulder. I wasn't complaining though; everything my son did was beautiful.

I take a seat in the rocking chair, not trying to move it at all; Scott is prone to motion sickness, so he throws up if he's moved around too much. I try everything I can think of to calm him down; I rub his back, hush him quietly, plant kisses along his head. I mean, hell, I even ran a cheek along his face, which wasn't exactly my brightest idea, since I hadn't shaved in a few days. I pray that he doesn't get stubble burn from that.

Well, I have one more idea, but… it's stupid. And it'll probably make everything worse, but it's worth a shot.

"Stiles, do not record me doing this; it will not end well if you do." I grumble out to nobody, sighing with defeat. I don't remember the song all that well; I only heard a snippet of it when I was little. But, it comes back to me after a few minutes of thinking about it.

"Well, baby I've, been here before; I've seen this room, and I've walked this floor." I'm pretty sure I sound terrible, but the amount of crying goes down immensely, so I take that as a sign to continue.

"You know I, used to live alone before I, knew you. And I see your flag on the marble arch, and love is not just some, victory march; it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah." I hum out the chorus, running a hand down Scott's back. I can feel him start to drift off.

I hum the chorus again, finally feeling him asleep. I stand, as best as I can without waking him, and lay him back in the crib. I don't leave immediately though; I watch him sleep with affection in my eyes. _Papa loves you, _I think to myself, not wanting to even test my voice right now.

A small creak makes me look over, seeing Stiles stand there, eyes glistening. "You saw the whole thing, didn't you?" I whisper, getting a nod for an answer. I walk over to where he's standing, close the door until just a sliver of the door is open.

"Why didn't you tell me you could sing?" He asked, wrapping his hands around my waist. I cupped his face in my hands, looking down at him.

"Well, it never exactly came up." I kissed him then, deep and slow, the slight taste of sleep still on our mouths. "I love you so much, Stiles." I whispered to him, after we broke.

"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly let you make me 'Mr. Stiles Hale' for a reason." He chuckled, interlacing his fingers with mine. I smile stupidly, not noticing that crappy vase fall off it's stand and shatter. I tried to save it, but I couldn't get there in time. Soon the screaming returned, making me groan ("That was so stupid of me! Ouch!" "Babe, don't go near that; oh no, you just stepped in it. Oy…") I took the huge chunk of vase out of my foot, going to the bathroom to have Stiles patch it up.

When he deemed it disinfected and bandaged to his liking, I stood up to go back to Scotts room, only to get pushed out of the way.

"Oh no; you just put him down, and got stabbed in the foot. I think it's my turn to do it."

"But it still is technically today. Maybe I should do it." He shakes his head, pushing me towards the bedroom.

"Just go get the bed warm; I'll take care of Scott and the mess." He plants another peck on my mouth, before going off to settle Scott for the night. I don't go back immediately though; I pad over to the door once it's closed, listening in on what's going on.

"Hey, buddy; sorry your big, bad papa knocked down a vase. But it's swept up, so when you decide to start walking, you won't impale your little tootsies on that god awful piece of decoration." I smirked to myself; I knew he hated that vase. Deny it as she may, Lydia had horrible taste in decoration.

"Oh, why yes, that _is_ my nose, thank you for pointing that out." Loud kisses filled the air, and a no longer crying toddler was taken care of. Stiles talked to Scott a little bit more, telling him stories and tales of his teenage years, making me smile into the doorjam; I could bet my own life that if Scott and Stiles went to school together, they'd be inseparable. It was just a good thing that Scott would have two parents growing up, instead of either one or none. I leave them to their conversation, going to make the bed warm.

* * *

I feel him pull back the covers, snuggling up close to me. I don't notice him at first, I'm half asleep. He pokes me, hard, in the rib, and I half-snort/half-jump awake, looking around, to see him looking at me.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" I smile, kissing the wedding ring I got to put on him two short years ago.

"Yeah, well, you let me know that loud and clear in our vows. Something along the lines of 'I vow to never let your once in a lifetime stupid decisions or sayings detract me from my devotion to you?'"

He scoffed, stifling a giggle into my side. "That wasn't meant to be offensive, and you know that."

"I know," I said, smiling. "I just like making you heated; it makes me horny." I growled the last part, enjoying the shiver I got from him as a reaction.

"I'm too tired for it right now, so don't even bother asking." We sit in silence for a little bit, Stiles I'm pretty sure dozed off.

"Hey," I ask, shaking him a little. "Hmm?" Is all I get in response. "What if I make a cheesy bake tomorrow? For breakfast?" he perks up a little bit at that.

"Yeah? Scott would like that; and plus, maybe I can make my triple berry syrup for pancakes to go with it?"

I chuckle. "Okay, go to sleep so it can be syrup time in the morning." He laughs, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I take in the scent of his hair, before drifting off to sleep. Scott must have sensed the impending excitement for the next morning, because he didn't cry or scream for the rest of the night.


End file.
